The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

I am below everything.

in a post. I want to be remembered

13, H, grate

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

It Will Get Lighter

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

we can only engage in such a way

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

no i haven't really read anything